Nightfall
by Changer of Ways
Summary: Twelve years after the events in Kingdom Hearts II, the tides of shadow once more spread across the firmament, snuffing out world after world and drawing countless lives into the darkness. A darker take on the KH universe,rated for violence/language/sex
1. Chapter I

The story has undergone some significant restructuring. What was formerly chapter 1 is now chapter 3. Chapter 2 is the most recently added one. This change should contribute to continuity and make for better storytelling.

Cheers

~CoW

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**Chapter I: Ghosts**

The full moon shone down on the Destiny Islands, leaving a trail of white light from the beach out over the water like a long, luminous road. A few gentle waves lapped at the beach, climbing halfheartedly up the sand and then receding. From the second story bedroom overlooking the ocean, Sora strained to hear them. He gave a contented sigh and watched Kairi's breast rise and fall with each breath. Her short, boyish brown hair was plastered against her neck and her flushed face was covered in a fine sheet of sweat. He propped himself up on one elbow and toyed with the ends of a silken tie on the back of her nightgown. For a moment he contemplated waking her, but feared rousing their young daughter, who slept down the hall. Then again, what would she hear? That he loved her mother, and she loved him.

Watching Kairi sleep somehow made Sora feel very old. Twelve years after returning to the Destiny Islands and she looked as though she had only lived through half of them. He looped his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her neck. A smile spread across her face and she let out a soft, feminine sigh. In her half waking he felt her hand seeking his. Sora's rough, calloused hand closed around hers. He savored the moment of bliss. He smiled and began to slip back under the blankets.

There was the hollow clunk of boots on hardwood floor and Sora felt a cold metallic point pressed against his neck. "Rise and shine sleepyhead," a woman's voice, singsong but contemptuous spoke. "Now let's play a game, if you do anything, and I mean _anything_ that I don't specifically order, you to lose an extremity of my choice. Are we clear?"

Sora only caught a glimpse of the woman through the gloom but he knew her at a glance. It had been years, but that voice still sent shivers down his spine. A lithe, beautifully curved body hidden by a long black coat. He could barely see her face through the shadows, but could make out thin lips curled into a smile and two strands of hair that stood out from the rest not unlike antennae.

"What's wrong?" the woman cocked her head and let ought a laugh that seemed disturbingly genuine. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

Sora stared, speechless at the woman he had killed with his own hands a few years ago. "Impossible," he hissed. Next to him, he felt Kairi begin to stir.

"The knife at your throat says otherwise," she giggled to herself and gave Sora's neck a light prod, "morning hun." With her spare hand she gave a jaunty wave to the still groggy Kairi. She flipped another dagger out of the sleeve of her coat.

She laughed mirthlessly and withdrew the knife. She glanced around the room humming some unrecognizable song. "You've done really well for yourself, kid." She glanced around the room and made a show of examining every inch of the room, "who'd you have to kill to get a place like this?"

"You, if I remember correctly," Kairi was awake now, her eyes narrowed.

"Ah, you're Naminé's other, aren't you." Kairi nodded. The woman let out a low growl and leapt towards the bed, dagger in hand. "You backstabbing little bitch! All our plans, everything we worked for, _ruined_ because of you." Kairi shrieked and raised her arms to shield her face as the black clothed woman descended on her in a flurry of snarls and blows. She raised a knife above her head, breathing heavily.

Sora drove his shoulder into the woman's side, knocking her off her feet. She impacted the floor with a heavy thud. There was a surge of light as the keyblade began to materialize in his hand. From her spot on the floor the woman expertly tossed a knife up in the air, caught it by its blade and threw it at Sora's hand. There was a fleshy thud as the knife embedded itself halfway to the hilt in Sora's palm. She sprung to her feet and descended on him, two knives at his neck. He stared into her eyes, defiant.

"Larxene," a calm, but surprisingly firm voice spoke. "The superior was quite clear that they were to be taken _alive_."

Larxene pouted and her voice regained its sickly sweet quality, "I wasn't going to _kill_ him, Luxord… I was just gonna cut on him a little."

"And yet I am not fully convinced _He _would see it that way. You are on thin enough ice as it is."

Larxene began to withdraw the knife, paused, and gave Sora one last strike with the flat of her blade, "you'll get yours, Sora."

Luxord snorted, "If everyone got what they deserved, neophyte, Xemnas would have destroyed you the moment you regenerated, if I may be so bold as to suggest that you not invoke any divine justice lest you find yourself on the receiving end." His expression changed, "now then, let's take a walk, shall we?"

Larxene cackled and yanked Sora out of the bed. "See?" she cocked her head and smiled at Luxord, "I can be helpful."

Sora groaned and clutched his wounded hand, "If you're going to kill me do it here and now, but leave my family in peace, they aren't a part of this."

Luxord sighed, "if only you truly understood what '_this'_ is. As for your family," he drew a card from within his cloak and tossed it to Larxene.

She caught it, looked it over for a moment and let out a laugh. She showed the card to Sora. Printed on its face was a young, lanky auburn haired girl with large blue eyes. His eyes widened, "Naminé," he shouted and lunged for the card. Larxene placed her foot on his chest and kicked him onto his back.

Luxord gave another heavy sigh, "of all the names in all the world."

"Release her," Larxene turned to find Kairi standing with the keyblade in hand, its point at Larxene's neck.

She smirked, "I'm a little surprised that you know which end to hold," in one motion, Larxene ducked under the blade, spun and planted a kick across Kairi's face. Before Sora could react, she followed through and drove one elbow into the side of Sora's head. As he recoiled she caught him in a choke hold. Sora struggled for a moment or two, then went limp. Larxene let the unconscious body fall. "I told you they'd go easier if we knocked them out."

Luxord rolled his eyes and plucked the card containing the picture of the young Naminé out of his companion's hands and tossed it onto the floor. There was a sudden surge of light and the girl lay gasping for breath on the floor. Larxene stepped forward, raising her fist, "no," he snapped and she withdrew. "Now then, love, are you ready to cooperate?"

"Who…" she gasped, "who are you?"

"Ghosts, you might say. Little fragments of people, cursed to wander the earth until the end of all things…"

"Who don't seem to know when to stay dead!" a high, nasally voice spoke.

Luxord turned in time to see a heavy iron shield hit him squarely in the face. There was a hollow metallic thud and he crumpled. "Got him, Donald!" said a deep, jovial voice.

Larxene began to back away from the door as the King's two retainers, Donald and Goofy, stepped in. "You wouldn't hit a girl would you?"

Donald gave an indignant quack and hurled a bolt of glistening ice.

The spell struck Larxene squarely in the chest, knocking her off her feet and shattering into a cloud of glittering crystalline shards. She winced and looked up at Goofy, "this is why they say chivalry is dead." She pointed her hand and Goofy and Donald and a bolt of forked lightning struck the two retainers, but they rebounded quickly. "Alright, I know a losing battle when I see one." She grabbed Luxord's unconscious body, pulled him close, and vanished in a surge of dark energy.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II: Judgment

The force of the blow sent Larxene skidding across the marble floor of Castle Oblivion, stopped only by a conveniently placed wall. She retched and spat the blood out of her mouth as she raised her head to face her attacker. Though his strike had knocked her at least three yards, Xemnas closed the distance in just a few strides. For a creature who felt only the shadow of human emotions, the anger on his face seemed alarmingly authentic. "M-master…" she fought for air against the rising tide of blood, "forgive me master… it wasn't my fault... I tried."

Xemnas's answer was another earth shattering backhand. Larxene tried to stand but her shattered legs would no longer carry the weight of her body and she collapsed in a whimpering heap on the cold floor. She listened to the steady _clack, clack, clack _of the superior's boots as he approached. She felt a vice like hand close around her neck and lift her up. "It was… a mistake for me to trust you in the first place, traitor." His grip began to tighten, "I do not make mistakes twice."

"Xemnas," a deep, composed voice spoke, "you cast aside your pawns too lightly. This one's failure was just that, a failure. There is no treachery at play here. She withdrew from a battle she deemed unwinnable and I will discipline her appropriately. Do not forget that she protected the life of a comrade in the process, you and I would have done the same."

Larxene felt herself moving as Xemnas turned to face the upstart. Saïx stood his ground, arms crossed, his expression blank. Xemnas allowed Larxene to fall. Xemnas stared at his lieutenant for what seemed to Larxene like ages. In the blink of an eye, the superior charged, a beam of scintillating red energy in his hand. If Larxene thought Xemnas's movements were too quick to track, she was in good company. Saïx let out a feral yelp as the beam of disruptive energy slashed across his stomach; he fell to his knees, fighting for breath. Xemnas dispersed his weapon with a carefree flick of his hand. "Your wound will heal in time. Do not expect such mercy from me in the future, Saïx. That was your _only_ warning." He turned back to Larxene, "now then, where were we?" He walked to where she lay, but paused. "Are there any other objections?" The cavernous room fell silent, save for Saïx's anguished growls. "How quickly you forget that it was here, in these very halls that this fiend first conspired against us, against _all_ of you." He glanced around at the silent faces of his organization. "Here she robbed you of your salvation, your only chance to truly exist, to be human beings once again. It strains the limits of my imagination why all of you do not clamber to be in my place, to exact justice with your own hands." Xemnas looked down at Larxene and scowled, "My castle, my world, my Kingdom Hearts lost. And it all began with you. You could have stopped _him_ but you didn't. You were too wrapped in your petty schemes with your worthless companion. You bear responsibility for all that we have lost, the blood of every soul in this room, including my own, is on your hands."

Xemnas let the words hang in the air for a moment. From the shadows he heard a voice whisper, "the boss just blew my mind."

Without turning Xemnas growled, "There have been better times for your insolence, Xigbar, unless you wish to lose another eye."

"You are at a dangerous threshold, my lord; I would implore you not to cross it."

"You astound me Luxord, I thought you would be more prudent than this."

There was a burst of shadow energy and Luxord appeared, interposing himself between Xemnas and Larxene. "The man dies in all who keep silent in the face of tyranny."

Xemnas snorted, "cute, but it will take more than a wordsmith to stay my hand." A pair of ethereal blades formed in Xemnas's hands. "Do not stand between me and this fiend."

"I will stand between any two fiends I choose, Xemnas."

"It seems I will have more discipline to enact." Xemnas released his ethereal blades and let the two beams of void energy hang in the air. He made a sweeping motion with one hand, and hurled Luxord across the room where he impacted the walls at a speed human bones were not meant to withstand. "Your schoolboy heroics have no place here."

He lifted Larxene up by the neck and began to tighten his grip. "I should not have destroyed you along with Marluxia, traitor. Now I correct my mistake." He conjured another blade with his spare hand and prepared to strike the death blow, but something made him pause.

Between gasps for air, and low, ragged sobs he heard her whisper, "Do it… end me." As she spoke, her body became hazy and indistinct, her facial features began to fade and her skin turned the color of tarnished silver. Even her neck became almost liquid in Xemnas's grasp. So astonished was he that he released her.

There was a soft thud and a feminine yelp as she hit the floor. Xemnas looked down, half expecting to see her transformed into a dusk. Instead, her body was remarkably intact, save for a handful of scrapes and bruises.

Xemnas glanced around the chamber, trying his best not to show his surprise while trying to gauge if the others had seen what he had seen. The mixture of fear and amazement on the faces of the other organization members suggested that they had. "Fascinating," he said, trying his hardest to appear assertive, "you have roused my interest, little rat. You will live… for now." He turned to Luxord, who lay slumped against a wall. "_Cure_" he growled and a ring of light enveloped the fallen nobody, stitching up wounds and reattaching bones as it passed over him. "Take her back to her quarters, and keep her guarded until I send for her. Xigbar, prepare the lab; there is work to be done. Demyx…" he paused, trying to think of a use for the sitar player, "clean this place up. For every drop of blood I find I will extract a pint of yours. Saïx, come with me, we have much to do." Every eye in the room was wide with surprise at the superior's sudden change of mood. "We are the Organization; each of us has stared death itself in the face and returned. It is time we started acting like it. You all have your orders, carry them out."

Luxord was the first to act, he pulled himself to his feet and began to walk to where Larxene lay, although he slowed as he drew closer to Xemnas, perhaps a bit wary of his master's newfound sense of purpose.

As he knelt to lift her up, he felt a hand on his shoulder, "do not tend to her wounds," Xemnas whispered, "I will need to study what we have… become. Her condition may be important."

Luxord nodded and picked up the half conscious Larxene in his arms. "Can you move your legs?" he asked.

Larxene gave a dazed sigh, "are you asking me to dance?"

Luxord rolled his eyes and carried her to her chambers.

Larxene awoke in her chambers, her mind clouded by pain. The room was pitch black, save for a dim, flickering orange glow. There was a soft rustling sound, like papers being shuffled. Paper, Larxene thought, or cards. The orange glow flared for a moment and illuminated the nobody's face. Panic began to set in, the rest was all reflexes. Under her blankets she conjured one of her knives and flung it for where she estimated Luxord's head was. Perhaps he heard her begin to move, for he doused the light and dodged as Larxene left a knife quivering in the wall. "Well then," Luxord's voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. "The sleeping beauty awakens."

"Goddamnit Luxord what are you doing here. Are you… watching me sleep?" She summoned another knife and kept it in hand.

"Think back, dear. The master told me to guard you."

Larxene's head began to clear, her hands stopped shaking. "Oh," she muttered, "right… sorry I… well it's good that you didn't get... you know it's not altogether wise to sneak up on a girl when she's on edge. I thought you were smarter that.

Luxord laughed, "Mea culpa, friend. May I be assured that no sharp objects will be thrown in my direction should I decide to show myself?"

"You're a gambling man, find out for yourself."

Luxord snapped his fingers and several oil lamps flickered into life. Larxene winced at the sudden light. Luxord sat perched on a small stool next to her bookshelf, a lit pipe in his teeth and a deck of large rectangular cards in his hands. "No knives?" he quipped.

"No promises." Larxene yawned and slipped back under the sheets and tried to get comfortable. "So what have you got there, more cards?"

"The lady is astute as always. Tarot, actually."

Larxene scoffed, "curious about the future?"

Luxord continued shuffling, "So much as one such as us can _have_ curiosity, yes. I am."

"Superstition if you ask me."

He snorted, "Yes, I suppose some people see it that way."

She sighed and tried to get comfortable, "so you can't tend to my wounds, right?"

"I'm afraid not, master's orders."

"Figures, ever the loyal soldier," she paused, "you tried to protect me, why?"

Luxord shrugged, "you saved my life, it only seemed fair."

Larxene gave a hollow laugh, "You're a saint." She closed her eyes, "sorry for, you know, throwing a knife at you."

Luxord gave a general grunt of recognition, "no harm done." He returned to shuffling the deck of tarot cards. After a moment of indecision he drew one. The card depicted two figures, a man and woman in what appeared to be the Garden of Eden. Printed across the bottom were the words "The Lovers". Luxord looked dispassionately at the card for a moment and glanced up at the sleeping Larxene then slipped the card back into the deck. "Damnable superstition," he muttered.


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III: Descent**

The truly unsettling thing about fighting the heartless was how eerily silent they were. Fa Mulan of the Imperial Guard felt an icy tingle creep down her spine as she surveyed the vast tide of misshapen, black bodies and unblinking yellow-white eyes. They covered the landscape like a macabre blanket climbing over each other as they gathered around the walls of the Imperial City.

And yet, they were nearly silent, aside from distant scrape of their limbs on the red stone and the occasional rush of air as one of their winged horrors drifted overhead, just out of range of the archers.

"So what do you think, ma'am," the sound of a man's voice stirred Mulan from her contemplations, "no worse than the Huns, eh?"

Mulan forced her face into what she hoped was a confident smile, "please, Ling, the Hun army was twice this size."

The lanky man pantomimed counting the amassed heartless, "Oh yes, this is paltry by comparison, I suppose I could just leave them all to you." Ling did an exaggerated about face and began to walk away.

Mulan reached out and laid an armored hand on her old friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ling, about Yao."

The soldier bowed his head, "it is alright, he… is with his ancestors now."

Mulan glanced back at the heartless army and tried to shake off the image of the squat, stocky man's heart being added to the host. "Yes," she lied, "he is at peace." She didn't want to contemplate her old friend suffering a fate worse than death. Contemplate what would likely be _her_ fate. Holding the palace would be impossible, but that was irrelevant now. With the Emperor's blessing Captain Shang had proposed a dangerous gambit: the Imperial army would hold the palace and draw the attention of the enemy while a token handful of soldiers helped evacuate as many of the local citizenry as possible to safety across the Yellow Sea. The presence of the host could only mean that the heartless had fallen for Shang's ruse. There was some solace in knowing that they had already won on that front. All that remained was to sell their lives as dearly as possible.

The steady _clink_ of a man walking in lamellar armor stirred Mulan from her daydreams. She'd grown to recognize the sound of Captain Shang. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, he had done everything short of beg the emperor to have her among the soldiers escorting the refugees to safety, but that decision was no longer his to make. "At attention guardsman," the order took Mulan somewhat by surprise. She pulled herself into a haphazard state of attention. His voice grew hollow after the first command. "Come with me, guardsman. I will need an escort."

Mulan met his gaze for the first time. There was a hollow look to his eyes that she had hoped never to see in the captain. Mulan swallowed anxiously and followed.

The heavy gates of the Imperial Palace creaked as they opened before the vast heartless army. Mulan felt her blood turn to ice as the tide of writhing creatures began to inch forward. She laid a trembling hand on the hilt of her sword. And then, they stopped. Dozens, perhaps even hundreds of heartless parted to either side in chillingly perfect unison leaving a space roughly three times a man's shoulder width. Or two times the shoulder width of the creature that strode down the middle of the heartless free aisle.

The corpulent creature stood more than seven feet tall from its steel-toed boots to the tips of its vaguely canine ears. Its body was encased in plate armor as dark as the shadowy creatures it commanded and emblazoned with a black heart with a red _X_ across the center, the emblem of the heartless. Its fleshy face was twisted into a jubilant grin. "Well now," the creature drawled, "isn't that nice of you to open the door when we knock. Saves me the trouble of knocking down your walls don't it? And it certainly saves _you_ the trouble of buildin' em back up again once you bow to me." The creature evidently found his quip unbearably funny and he broke out into a grotesque full bellied laugh.

Shang did not blink. Once the beast's laughter subsided he spoke, "The Imperial Chinese Army offers you this one opportunity to surrender and leave the domain of our Emperor never to return."

The heartless general erupted in another fit of hysterical laughter. "Surrender? You've got some grade A delusions o' grandeur if you think I'm going to be surrender'n to you in this lifetime."

Shang nodded pensively, "then we have no alternative but to annihilate you and your fiendish hordes to the last."

"See now I don't think you're truly grasping the situation, runt." The creature put his hand to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. From within the mass of shadows a creature staggered forth, little more than a walking cage. Between the living bars Mulan could clearly see the figure of a young peasant woman in traveling clothes huddled in a corner. When the cage was in arms length, the heartless general reached between the bars and seized the woman around the neck in one massive fist. Mulan closed her eyes, she knew what was about to happen. There was a sudden surge of cold wind and the woman began to scream and writhe, her feet making a series of wet clunks against the bars of her cage. The entire episode could not have lasted longer than a few seconds, but the scream seemed to last a lifetime, until it altogether ceased to be the sound of a human being. The creature laughed, "we found this one an' a whole mess of others flee'n east. Bet ya thought you could keep us tied up while they escaped, but nobody and I mean nobody outsmarts the mighty Pete." The monster's bulbous white eyes narrowed, "and no one and I mean _no one _escapes the heartless. Look around you, there is nowhere to run, every nation, every _world_ will bend to the darkness in time, you can only delay the…"

"I've heard enough," Mulan roared and drew her sword, "Miscreation! I am Fa Mulan, left hand of his Excellency the Emperor and arbiter of his justice. I challenge you to single combat." Mulan's heart pounded in her chest as she stared the creature down.

The heartless leader's joviality returned, "Well now, finally an enemy with some spirit, wish I could say the same for your brains."

"Will you fight me, fiend? Or are you afraid to die on my blade."

"Afraid?" the creature nearly collapsed laughing, "missy I ain't going to be the one dying," a grin spread across its face and a cloud of crackling black energy coalesced around its hand, "but in a sense I guess you won't be either. Alright then, give me your worst."

Mulan glanced at the stunned captain Shang, who probably would have been furious were he not so surprised. "This was the plan, wasn't it?" she spat, "you should be grateful." She gave her sword a few practice swings and stepped forward. The masses of heartless crept closer; a thousand unblinking eyes looked to their master, as though waiting for a signal. Pete held up an armored hand and the creatures halted. The brute lumbered forward. "You will not use a weapon, fiend? Pity, there is no pride in killing an unarmed man."

"You wouldn't know an upper hand if it slapped ya. Guess there's time for ya to learn." With speed almost beyond belief for such an armored behemoth, Pete sprung forward and brought an armored fist down directly where Mulan's stood a moment ago. The creature's ironclad fist left a crater the size of a man's head in the paved stone. Mulan recovered quickly and sprung, slashing for the chest. Two feet of finely made Chinese steel dragged across his breastplate without so much as a scratch. Mulan whirled around to deliver another blow but Pete rebounded, driving an armored fist into her belly in a vicious upper cut.

Mulan impacted the ground with a hollow thud and the bitter taste of blood in her mouth. Pete plucked the sword from her slacked grip. He snapped the blade with his bare hands. "Now what is it you said about kill'n an unarmed man? Guess this here makes an even fight."

Mulan pulled herself to her feet, drew a dagger from her belt and thrust for the belly under the breastplate. If the blade managed to reach his flesh, Pete did not seem to notice, he plucked the struggling woman off the ground, her neck enclosed in one enormous fist. "You'll make one mother of a heartless, wont you missy? Look on the bright side; at least you don't have to see your homeland fall." Crackling darkness coursed through the creature's body and into Mulan's.

For a moment, it was as though she were plunged into icy water as the feeling changed from numbing cold to blistering heat. She fought for breaths that would not come as though the dark energy held her lungs in a slowly tightening vice grip. She felt a soft skittering sensation climb from her back to her shoulder and down her arm. There was a burst of white hot heat and the pain stopped. Pete howled in agony and released his grip as his hands shot to his face. Though partially obscured, she could see Pete's skin was charred and blackened. Skittering over his body, deftly avoiding Pete's flailing arms was a small, orange, serpentine shape. "Nice to have the old guardian powers back," Mushu quipped, breathing a gout of fire at one of Pete's thrashing arms.

"Treachery," Pete roared, "is this what counts as a fair fight 'round here?" The heartless began to advance. Somewhere on the ramparts came calls to close the gate. Mulan's heart sank; it would not be enough, scores of twisted creatures surged through with every second.

Mushu continued to climb over Pete's body dodging the heartless leader's clumsy grabs and breathing fire at exposed skin. "You probably hear this a whole lot," he yelled, "but you are one slow sack of cra-"

Pete roared in triumph as one of his hands connected with the little dragon and tore him from his body. There was a small, fleshy snap as Pete throttled the dragon and tossed him aside. He lumbered toward the injured Mulan, "now then, where were we."

"Fiend!" the voice reverberated throughout the courtyard.

Pete sighed and his ears drooped, "what now."

Mulan turned to see the charging Captain Shang decapitate a heartless without breaking stride. "If you are done struggling against my recruits, perhaps you'd like to pick on someone your own size." Despite the gravity of the situation, Mulan couldn't help but feel a sting of indignation.

"You got yourself a strange sense of humor around here, pipsqueak, got a dragon up your sleeve too?"

Shang impaled another heartless through its bulbous head with his sword. There was a spray of black ichor and its body vanished in a burst of shadow. "Not at all, beast," Shang paused to cleave through a trio of shadows, "I was referring to him."

Pete had only a moment to be confused before the titanic Chien Po's arms closed around him and tackled him to the ground. Pete struggled with the enormous man, but to no avail. Shang closed in, prepared to bring his sword down on the pinned creature's head. "Time for plan B," Pete growled. A shockwave of dark energy swept through him, knocking Shang off his feet and engulfing Chien Po in a cloud of darkness. Pete shoved the man off him and pulled himself to his feet as the black mist coalesced into a rotund heartless.

Mulan strained to stand, to fight back, but pain shot through her lower body. A quick glance at her bent and broken legs confirmed that they would be of no use to her. She could only watch as Pete strode over to the defeated Shang and lifted him off his feet. He laughed, "now this seems vaguely familiar, got any dragons you'd like to spring on me?"

The captain groaned and fumbled for a weapon.

Pete gave him a rough shake, "no? aw, that's too bad. Guess nobody rides to the rescue of the rescuers." The familiar crackle of dark energy filled the air. Mulan looked at the ground, her vision obscured by sweat and tears. She broke out into bitter, ragged sobs as Shang began to scream. And then, perhaps more chillingly, he stopped. She glanced up, through tear streaked eyes and let out an anguished howl.

Shang had been warped beyond recognition; the remnants of his armor had melded with his skin to form something like black scales. His arms had shortened into stubby claws and his face looked like nothing so much as a grotesque parody of a dragon. The black heartless symbol was printed across his scaled chest. The heartless shambled towards the wounded Mulan on its newly formed claws. "Shang, you remember me, don't you, it is me, Mulan. Fight it Shang, I know you have it in you, you are stronger than this."

For a moment, the heartless paused, but crept closer. As it neared heard its throaty growls interspersed with faint whimpers as though on some level Shang was aware of his actions and unable to stop himself. Pete laughed again, "I think I know when I'm not needed, I'll leave you two to get reacquainted, after all, there's so much left to do. Guess I'll wait and see what pops up afterward. You two play nice now." He laughed again, but Shang was close enough that his growls were louder.

"Shang…" hot tears fell from Mulan's eyes, leaving dark spots on the earth. The crackle of dark energy filled the air. Mulan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled for the last time.


	4. Chapter IV

* * *

Chapter IV: Old Friends and Loose Ends

"All I'm saying is that your timing is impeccable," Sora said, working his way into traveling clothes. A rust colored shirt and work pants along with a long brown leather coat. As he slipped the coat on he couldn't help think of the Organization, and wondered if he had bought it as some kind of macabre tribute to his old enemies.

"We were tra-" Goofy began, but Donald cut him off.

"What Goofy means is that we've been keeping watch over the worlds for anything suspicious." A twinge in the magician's voice hinted that he didn't expect Sora to believe the ruse.

"You can do better than that, Donald," Sora turned to face his old friends, "just tell me how you knew to come when you did." He paused, then his expression lightened, "after all, you saved our lives, how bad could it be?"

Goofy did not seem overly reassured, "well Sora, the King's been aware of them nobodies resurfacing for some time now. We've been doin' our best to keep tabs on 'em and find out what they're after."

Sora's fists clenched, "And you waited until there was a knife at my throat before you told me about it?" he roared. He looked ready to continue but Kairi laid a light but firm hand on his arm. She motioned towards the young, frightened Naminé.

"You had a family to raise, Sora," Donald said, "the King thought you deserved a little peace."

Sora and Kairi sat down on the bed, hand in hand. Kairi motioned for Naminé to join her and looped a reassuring arm around her daughter. "But trouble found us nonetheless."

Goofy's ears drooped, "I guess we might have been a bit too hopeful."

Kairi was not satisfied, "you're tracking them though, not fighting. Why is that?"

"You know what they say about the enemy of my enemy? Guess the King thought we could use them to our advantage, what with the heartless problem…" Goofy was halfway though his thought before he realized he had dug himself a hole. He clamped a large gloved hand over his mouth.

Sora voice held more despair than anger, "you gambled our lives because you thought those bastards would do your dirty work?" he grimaced and looked at the floor.

Donald's eyes were downcast, "You're our friend Sora. We weren't trying to put you in danger. We just wanted to leave you in peace."

A smile formed at the edge of Sora's mouth. "You guys know you'd be lost without me." He lifted his spare arm and with a burst of light the keyblade materialized. "After all, I can't let you guys have all the fun."

Donald looked ready to jump for joy, "In that case I think the King will want to see you, all of you actually," he gestured to Kairi and Naminé.

"Riku too," Goofy chimed in, "say, where _is_ Riku anyway. I haven't heard from him in ages."

The color drained from the faces of Kairi and Sora, they exchanged uneasy glances and looked down at the confused Naminé.

There was a long silence before Goofy spoke, "you know, I think little Naminé would love to see our gummi ship, what if I gave her a tour while the grownups do their catch'n up?"

Naminé looked up at her mother, who indicated that she was allowed to go. The little girl wasted no time grabbing the king's retainer by the hand and leading him out the door.

Once he was sure they were out of earshot, Donald spoke, "something she shouldn't hear?"

Sora leaned forward, massaging his temples, "Kairi and I haven't spoken to him since Naminé was a month old, I guess it would be six years now."

"Just about," Kairi chimed in.

"He's not well, Donald, we let him stay with us for a while, thought it would help."

Donald was puzzled, "Not well?"

Kairi grimaced, "he started saying things that didn't make sense, shouting at people who weren't there, tearing up furniture, he set a few things on fire…"

"Fire?"

"He said they smelled bad, like grave dirt and brackish water."

"So you abandoned him?"

Sora was furious, he leapt from the bed, blade drawn almost as though he were about to swing, "I had no choice. I wasn't making him any better and I'm not about to let him take a torch to my daughter while she's asleep."

Donald raised his feathery hand-wings, "I'm sorry, Sora, I'm sure you had your reasons. But where is he now?"

Sora sighed and lowered his sword arm, "he could be anywhere by now."

Riku's cabin was as far from being the dwelling of a human being as was possible to imagine. The salt air took its toll on everything; every inch of exposed metal was corroded and covered in a vile, crusty green-white film, the wooden walls and floor were black, rotted and strewn with sand and bits of ash. Riku lay on the floor next to his foul smelling cot, curled up in a small shaft of moonlight picking at the unrecognizable bones of some unfortunate animal that he had caught and eaten. So he lived, more animal than man, fighting sleep for days and weeks at a time. The effect was taxing, and the line between reality, dream and memory grew thinner with every passing day. Thus when he heard the creak of the cabin door and the sound of slow, purposeful footsteps on the floorboards, not enough of him was convinced it was real to react to it. The footsteps stopped a few feet away from where Riku lay. There was a squeak as the intruder sat down on his bed. Riku let out a low groan.

Perhaps noticing Riku for the first time, a voice spoke, "Hiya Riku. Gosh, is this how you're living nowadays?"

Riku recognized the voice in an instant, "you… your Majesty… yes… I knew it… knew you would come looking for me some day," he stumbled over the words, as though he had half forgotten how to speak.

The king's voice was laden with concern, "well gosh Riku, you weren't easy to find. I almost wondered if you didn't want me to find you at all."

Riku shook his head, "no, forgive me, Mickey, I would never…"

Mickey gasped, "Riku, your eyes." As Riku raised his head, the king seemed to have caught a glimpse of the two black pits where his eyes used to be.

Riku raised his hands to his face, his hands hovering around the wound. "Yes, of course. I had to your majesty. They were bad. They were _his_ eyes."

"Gosh Riku," there was a creak as Mickey leaned forward on the bed, "I wish I'd known things had gotten so bad. I'm so sorry."

"He is… my burden to bear; I've done only what I had to do."

"Well you don't have to suffer like this anymore," there was another creak as the king got to his feet. "You can come back to the castle with us, you'll be safe there," the king laughed, "there's no way any darkness will hurt you there."

"I… cant."

"Riku you've sacrificed so much for the worlds. It's about time someone repaid you. But first let's get you fixed up."

There was a surge of energy and a thick fog of nature magic enveloped Riku. He gagged and coughed.

"Don't fight it, Riku. It doesn't work if you fight it."

Riku felt the strange cloud healing his wounds. It took a moment before Riku realized he could see again. The world gradually slid into focus and he could see his benefactor. Mickey's face was shrouded in a black hood, the same cloak he worse when they fought Organization XIII all those years ago. Perhaps it was because of Riku's spot on the floor, but the king seemed taller than he remembered him. A chill crept up his spine.

"You really did look ridiculous, hiding away like an animal. How long did you think it would last?"

There was some terribly wrong about the king's sudden change, "Your majesty?" Riku tried to move but the cloud seemed to have sapped his strength as it mended his body.

"No, Riku, I am not the mouse-king Mickey."

Over the horrid smell of decaying wood and rotted meat came another smell. The stench of grave dirt and brackish water. A crackling, unholy purple black light filled the room, illuminating the face of the black cloaked imposter. "Ansem… it can't be," Riku hissed.

The dark creature laughed, "Oh but it is. You should have known better, Riku. You of all people. You can run, but the darkness will always be faster, you can hide but it will always find you." He reached down and seized Riku by the throat, "you can fight, but you will _always_ lose. "


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V: The Truth of Things

The laboratory wing of castle oblivion was especially constructed to resemble Ansem the Wise's study from the castle in Hollow Bastion, apparently at Vexen's request. Xemnas could not help but be sickened by the sentimentality. Yet there was something reassuring about it, like slipping back into an old skin. So many memories, and (without a heart) no way to make sense of them.

There was a heavy thud as Xigbar dropped a heavy folder filled with charts and papers on his master's desk. The noise was enough to rouse Xemnas from his contemplations. "Nothing," he said.

Xemnas raised an eyebrow, "nothing?" he leafed through the charts, not entirely sure what he was looking for. "You performed all the tests I asked you to?"

Xigbar shrugged, "yup, except the mammography. So far as I can tell, everything's normal. Our little psychotic comrade is a picture of health, 'cept for the beating you gave her."

Xemnas closed the folder, "I see."

"Not sure what we expected to find, she's not a dusk if that's what you were after."

Xemnas sat down behind his desk, rubbing his temples.

Xigbar wandered around the room, stopping to fiddle with some of the lab equipment on a shelf, prompting a baleful glare from his superior. "I saw what you saw; she looked pretty damn dusky to me."

"If death was reversible, then perhaps that state is as well."

Xigbar snorted, "You didn't do anything _to_ reverse it."

"We didn't do anything to come back from the dead." Xemnas seemed lost in thought. After a while he gave a pensive grunt. "What makes us different from them, Xigbar."

The one eyed nobody seemed a bit surprised by the question, "You want the short list? We have the same bodies we did as humans; our cognitive skills are intact, we remember who we are…"

Xemnas held up a hand to silence him, "You cannot see the forest for the trees. Tell me, _why_ are we different than them."

"We have a stronger will than them, same thing that separates the dusks from the people who didn't produce nobodies at all."

"Exactly. For the longest time I assumed we resurfaced because the keyblade was not made to destroy ones such as us. The truth is far simpler, when we lost our hearts to the darkness our minds and bodies faded into darkness, but returned as nobodies."

"So what does that make us, immortal?"

Xemnas rose from his seat, "It means we are not some cosmic coincidence, we returned for a reason. I see the hand of fate in this. The great work must begin anew. There may be others of our number who we have yet to find."

"What about Rox… er Sora."

"That will be your task, we will need our world back. I am certain the keyblade wielder would be happy to oblige, with a little… convincing." The superior strolled over to the bookshelf and began to browse the titles.

"Is that a mission, boss?"

Xemnas waved a hand dismissively, "take help if you need it, and make sure the others are doing something productive. We have little time for foolishness."

Xigbar scratched his head, "you want me to give orders? Isn't that more Saïx's job."

Xemnas gave a hollow laugh, "indeed, you've moving up in the world. Just be sure to keep the others busy."

Xigbar stood before the desk for a moment searching for the right words. "What do I tell Saïx, boss?"

"Tell him if I need an intermediary, I will summon him. Until then, he too must carry his weight in the field."

"This isn't going to end well…" Xigbar muttered, turning to leave.

"Neither will disobeying my orders."

Without a word, Xigbar turned on his heel and strode out the door.

* * *

Xigbar halted at the entry to the common room and worked his face into what he hoped was an authoritative expression. The room was designed to encourage mingling but almost inevitably the nobodies dispersed themselves across the room in their own personal territorial claims, absorbed in their own petty distractions.

He took a deep breath, "listen up, ladies. Got orders for you right from the top." All eyes in the room were immediately locked on him, save for Larxene, who made an obscene gesture in his direction and continued reading. So far so good, he thought to himself. "There's work to be done. Larxene, Luxord, you two are coming with me, we're going after Sora."

Demyx snickered from his spot on a sofa, "what's that they say about doing the same thing twice and expecting different results."

Xigbar laughed in spite of himself, "As if, they've got me this time, what could possibly go wrong." Luxord muttered something about tempting fate but Xigbar pretended not to notice. "Demyx, you're on recon duty, boss thinks there might be more nobodies like us out there we haven't found yet. You get to scour the cosmos for em, lucky you."

The sitar player looked ready to object but sank into a sullen pout.

Saïx, who had remained silent until now, rose from his seat and started toward the exit. Xigbar smirked, "where do you think you're going."

"You all have your tasks, the master and I will need to discuss strategy…"

"No, you won't. The boss was pretty clear about that."

Saïx snorted, "I am not certain I follow your joke. At any rate if you've had your fun I have business to attend to." He began to walk away but Xigbar seized him by the arm.

"You really don't get it do you? The boss wants you on a mission, this is right from the horse's mouth. Take it up with him on your own time. Besides, someone needs to keep Demyx in line."

Saïx let out a low growl. "The master and I will speak on this later."

Xigbar smirked, "I'm sure he's dying to hear it." Without another word, two vortexes of dark energy materialized and the two groups of nobodies went their separate ways.

* * *

Pete's oversized ironclad boots gave a series of ominous thuds on the floor of the Imperial throne room. The creature gave a hearty guffaw, "now that just _can't_ be all of you." He paused for a moment, "come out come out wherever you are." He strode up to the throne, where the ancient robed figure of the Emperor sat, impassively staring at the creature that had brought his homeland to its knees. Pete seemed content to ignore him, "none of you are going anywhere. You can hide from me but there ain't nobody what can hide from the heartless." He looked down at the Emperor, pretending to see him for the first time, "Well _there_ you are. Only polite to come when yer called."

If the Emperor felt a hint of fear he did not show it. Instead, the old man's expression changed to one of curiosity. "The puppet speaks and dances, but where…." He trailed off, "where is the puppeteer."

Pete gave a halfhearted chuckle, "well that there is a new one. Most folks is a plead'n for mercy right about now."

"What master do you serve?"

Pete recoiled ever so slightly, as though the ancient, scholarly man had been replaced by a sack of refuse. "Sure do ask a lot of questions for a king without a kingdom."

"You are the victor this day, I will not argue that." The robed man sighed and closed his eyes, his voice adopted a rehearsed quality, as though he were reciting a prayer, "but in time good shall emerge triumphant. I regret I shall not live to see that. I ask only a favor from one civilized man to another, assuage my curiosity. By whose hand has my Empire been laid waste. Yours?" he paused, "or another's."

Pete's discomfort only increased, "well there's Malificent…" the emperor began to nod knowingly, but Pete erupted in an indignant rage, "the mighty Pete don't serve nobody! Ain't nobody nowhere what tells me what to do when I got the heartless at my back. Malificent's gonna help me conquer all the worlds." As he spoke he flailed his armored fists in the air and stomped the ground for emphasis.

"And what then?" The Emperor's question left Pete stunned he lowered a fist as he searched for a good answer.

"Then," a voice spoke, female and laden with diabolical glee and an almost palpable arrogance, "you will have power beyond your wildest imagination. A universe that exists only to do your bidding." A figure swathed in a ragged black robe materialized a few feet from the Emperor. With some imagination, one could call the creature a human woman. Her face was framed by a vile black cowl that ended in an enormous pair of curved demonic horns. The flesh of her exposed face and hands was a nauseating gray-green color, reminiscent of a gangrenous wound. Her eyes were the same, unblinking orange globes of her heartless legions.

The Emperor stared long into Malificent's eyes. "So this is the hand behind the evil that has befallen my homeland. "A deluded conjurer and would be tyrant," the Emperor pulled himself to his feet. "If I am to fall, I shall do so on my feet."

Malificent made a sweeping motion with one hand. There was a burst of emerald fire and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. The Emperor sprawled on the floor, a black scorch mark running diagonally across his body. "This is the end for you, mortal," she sneered, "there is no white knight coming to your rescue. This time the worlds shall taste _true_ power. The power of darkness unrestrained." She made another motion with her hand and the emperor lifted off the ground, fighting for breath as an unseen hand closed around his throat. "Everything I need is locked away in your memory."

"I do not understand," the emperor said between gasps for air.

The witch whispered an incantation and a stream of roiling shadow energy projected itself from Malificent's outstretched hand to the Emperor's head. The old man's anguished screams were enough to make Pete take a step back, his ears flattened against his head in alarm. After a moment or two, it stopped, Malificent grimaced. "Your mind is more… resilient than I had anticipated. I see now why your people so admire you." She repeated the incantation and the spell began again, Malificent's face twisted into a mask of cruel triumph, "but it does not matter, one way or another I will wring out your mind like a sponge. Nothing will keep me from my destiny." She let out a victorious laugh and allowed the Emperor to fall heavily to the ground. She gave a carefree flick of one hand and a swirling cloud of raw darkness enveloped the Emperor of China. He let out a pitiful gurgle, then was gone, replaced by a spindly black neoshadow.

Malificent set upon her work with unsettling single minded focus. Tearing up cushions and searching for hidden compartments on the Imperial Throne. Pete spoke first, uneasily shifting his weight from side to side, "so uh… what exactly was _that_ about?"

The witch let out a low growl, as though irate at being distracted from the task at hand. "Do you fear the darkness, Pete?"

Pete thumped his chest with a gauntleted hand, "course I ain…"

"Of course you are. If you were not, you would be a fool. The darkness masters those who draw more power from it than they can control. The late Emperor was entrusted with something more powerful than he could have ever possibly imagined."

"Well, okay then but if what he's got was so powerful how come he didn't do nothing with it. Ain't no one here what used any big nasty magic so far as I can tell." Pete let out a nervous laugh, "Lady I bet this is all just one big old wild goose cha…"

Malificent let out a triumphant "Ha!" and drew from a compartment hidden in the back of the throne a small leather bound book. "What a shame that the power in these pages will forever elude you. True, the darkness masters those who cannot master it. But this book," she turned to Pete, her expression one of cruel euphoria, "this book is the key to mastering the darkness."


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI: The Corrupted

Goofy breathed in the warm, tropical night air as he lead Naminé down to the shore where the _Highwind_, Sora's well worn gummi ship hovered just a few inches off the sand. The ship, the size of a city bus, was completely silent save for the slight whistling of the levitation drive. The girl seemed fascinated by it, eagerly exploring the sleek, gleaming hull. "Well, this is it. This is a gummi ship. Your dad, Donald and I went to all kinds of different worlds in it."

Naminé halted her examination of one of the ship's many gun ports and looked at Goofy in shock. "Father went to another world?"

"Ayup, a whole mess of em at that." Goofy's brow furrowed, "Gawrsh I wonder why he never told you." He gave a jovial smile, "Well don't you worry, one of these days we can sit down and he can tell you the whole story. Would ya like that?"

Naminé nodded, "Yes sir, I would like that very much."

The knight gave a mock scowl, "Well now who taught you that you call your friends, sir? You can just call me Goofy." He stuck out a hand.

Naminé took his hand with both of hers and shook it energetically. Clearly trying to reciprocate she responded, "Well you can call _me_ Naminé."

Goofy gave a hearty laugh, "Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Naminé." He paused, "You know, I knew another Naminé once. She was a very brave girl, I couldn't think of any better namesake." Goofy paused, "I need to check on a few things, but just give me one minute and I'll show you the inside." He opened a side hatch and began to climb into the ship. "Don't worry about breaking nothing, there ain't nothing anywhere what can hurt this gummi ship."

Goofy stepped inside and made his way to the bridge, looking for some spare gummi blocks with which to keep the child occupied. He couldn't help but wonder what was transpiring back at the house, but reassured himself that he had made the right decision. From the look on Sora's face, whatever may have happened to Riku was not meant for the ears of a child. From a small stash near the passage to the engine room, Goofy found a box filled with a number of small gummi blocks that the King's chipmunk mechanics used to make minor repairs. He stepped out of the vessel onto the soft, white sand. Even in full moonlight, compared to the well lit gummi ship, the beach seemed ominously dark "Naminé," he called out, "I've got something for you." He circled the gummi ship looking for the girl. "Naminé?" he called again. Goofy heard a shrill shriek and turned to face the sound.

Naminé stood in the moonlight, encircled by dozens of heartless. Their antennae squirming and their glowing eyes leering. Standing beside the girl was a figure of titanic size and shrouded in a black cloak. One hand was clamped over the girl's mouth. The other was on the grip of an enormous axe like weapon.

Goofy drew his shield and eased his way into a combat stance, doing his best not to appear too aggressive and provoke the Nobody. "You sure don't quit." The hooded man remained eerily motionless, it was almost like staring down a statue. "Let Naminé go, we'll fight fair."

The silent warrior looked down at the small, trembling girl as though noticing her for the first time. In a single motion, he lifted her off the ground and tossed her aside. She landed, whimpering, in a patch of sand. Goofy was upon him in an instant, driving his shield into the man's solar plexus with both hands. The effect was something like striking a brick wall. The nobody barely flinched but the impact sent shockwaves of pain through Goofy's arms but he was quick to rebound. He cocked the shield back behind him and swung. The edge of the shield connected with the side of the hooded man's head. Something about the way the man made no attempt to evade the blow sent shivers down Goofy's spine. The force of the blow knocked the man's head back, allowing the black hood to slide off his head and reveal a face Goofy had never seen before.

He had strong, angular features with a straight nose and a square jaw. The rest had been warped into something barely human. His gray, wasted skin was pulled tight across the bone. He was bald save for a few clumps of spiky auburn hair which stuck out at odd angles. His eyes and mouth were stitched shut with black thread. Naminé screamed and Goofy recoiled in horror. He swung again and again in frenzied panic. Every strike hit its mark perfectly but the creature did not even flinch. As Goofy reached back to strike again the Nobody grabbed his arm. Goofy's bones made a horrible crackle as his foe crushed his arm to bloody pulp. He forced Goofy to his knees. The knight stared into the monster's empty eye sockets and got the unnerving feeling that it could see him with no difficulty. "Sora," he shouted, finding himself unable to look away from the creature, "Help!"

* * *

The familiar eerie howl of shadow portals closing carried through the halls of Castle Oblivion. Xemnas watched his followers depart, hidden in the shadows, a stack of books in his arms. "At last," he said, "No more distractions." He made a motion and the books spread themselves out in the air before him. He selected a thick, nondescript, leather bound volume which could have just as easily been a dictionary and with a wave of one hand, the remaining books deposited themselves in a neat stack on a nearby table. He hiding his work from the others, but he was not entirely convinced that they were all to be trusted. Certainly not when it came to exposing his Achillies heel.

Xemnas descended into the deeper basements of the castle, the book in one hand and a lantern in the other. As he made his way deeper and deeper into the catacombs, the extent of the evil that had once walked the halls became apparent. The white stone walls were dark with some kind of purple-black algae and thorny, twisted vines congregated in the corners. In the dim lamplight, it seemed as though they were slowly writhing. A handful of decorative statues were broken to pieces, yet the shards hung suspended in the air, slowly turning as though dangling from unseen strings. The air was thick with a vile, smoky haze. It was not worth it, Xemnas decided, to cleanse the darkness from the lower floors. Besides, he thought, it kept inquisitive nobodies out of places they did not belong. Xemnas flipped open the book to a marked page and studied it for a moment. Lately he had needed the encrypted map less and less, but then again he was not confident enough to leave it behind. Besides, he wouldn't have put it past the magic of Castle Oblivion to change the hallways on him. There was a sharp hiss and a skittering sound as a dark shape flitted past his field of vision. A stray heartless, Xemnas thought. He muttered an incantation and a dozen or so crackling red beams appeared in a circle around him. He finished the spell and they shot outward, briefly illuminating the entire room. There was vile chorus of hisses as several of the ethereal blades found their marks. Four neoshadows were pinned to the walls, writhing as the disruptive void energy ate into their bodies before dispersing into bursts of light. Xemnas shrugged and continued walking, content that any surviving creatures knew by now he was not to be trifled with.

He came at last to his destination. In ages past, in happier times, the room had born the trappings of a ballroom, with a large wooden dance floor, expensive looking tapestry draped over the walls and lamps and false windows cleverly arranged to make it appear as though light were coming in from outside, although the room was deep underground. Unlike the other rooms in the lower levels of the castle, the ballroom was more neglected than corrupted, more forlorn than frightening. The castle's more recent inhabitants had seen fit to overlook it. He couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of Lexaeus struggling through a waltz with an increasingly reluctant concubine or Zexion trying with little success to hammer out a song on grand piano which sat forlorn on a disused stage, a grim charade of their old lives as apprentices at hollow bastion. The amusement passed quickly, as did all emotions his mind tried in vain to conjure. Xemnas gave a snort of contempt and returned to the task at hand. He levitated onto the stage and set the lantern down on the closed top of the piano. He strode up to the wall, took a glance behind him and then spoke, "Another." No sooner had the word left his mouth than the old stone began to crack. Two great slabs opened to reveal a cleverly concealed entrance to a long hallway.

Dozens of lights flickered into being, illuminating the newly revealed chamber, Xemnas winced as the light that reflected off the polished white walls stung his eyes, which had grown accustomed to the darkness. The short hallway lead to another small chamber. The room was small by Castle Oblivion standards, only about the size of a walk in closet. A large white throne sat off to the side, next to it there was a small wooden table set with a bottle of scotch whiskey and two crystal glasses. The whole affair was arranged to face the centerpiece of the room. A set of burnished bronze armor lay on its back with its hands clasped over its chest. In its hands was a stunningly accurate replica of the keyblade.

Xemnas took his seat and poured himself a glass of scotch and downed half of it in a single swig. He waited for a long time, holding the glass in one hand and staring down at the motionless armor. He placed the glass back on the table and leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. He took a deep breath, then spoke, "Hello again," he paused, "Old friend."


End file.
